


or it's gonna go down in [silver] flames

by hoodwinkd



Series: Your Eyes Whispered Universe [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt, F/M, I ship Nesta x Eris having a fling and idk why, I'm Sorry, Minor Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Nesta Archeron-centric, Non-Graphic Smut, Post-ACOWAR, Romance, The Autumn Court (ACoTaR), all the dysfunction, but like not really, idk what this is, pre-ACOSF, pretend Nesta didn't go to Illyria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29275800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodwinkd/pseuds/hoodwinkd
Summary: Nesta needs an escape from Velaris. Eris needs a distraction from planning his father's murder. They both need one person who looks at them without disdain and hatred in their eyes. Can I make it anymore obvious?Basically, I think Nesta x Eris is the cold-hearted, bad bleep friendship we all deserve and also maybe they should have sex and talk about their respective pain. NESSIAN IS STILL ENDGAME, but I feel like Nesta deserves some personal time before falling irrevocably in love? With Blank Space playing in the background?
Relationships: Eris Vanserra/Original Female Character(s), Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra
Series: Your Eyes Whispered Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103522
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	or it's gonna go down in [silver] flames

**Author's Note:**

> "What. Is We. Doing." Me to me the entire time I was writing this. I genuinely thought it would be cute and fun lmao it did not end up that way.
> 
> IN MY DEFENSE: Sarah made the cover for ACOSF orange flames and gave us that waltz teaser, which got my brain thinking that Nestis (Ersta? Ernes? bye) would actually be the hottest couple out there. Like they could both step on me. And they're100% that Tik Tok sound "and then there were two. the two bitches. nobody likes us."
> 
> I'm including this as a prequel of sorts to Your Eyes Whispered, but it can be read on its own!

Silver and orange flames danced together above Eris' head where Nesta had his hands pinned. She smirked at the small gasp that escaped his throat as she ground down, the friction hitting their bodies at a new angle. His eyes burned and his arms flexed at the urge to break free of her grip.

He never would, though. Eris had seen the haunted look in her eyes once, had understood immediately never to push against any boundaries she set during their interactions. Fortunately, the two of them equally enjoyed a dominant female on top.

Nesta felt herself approaching the edge, thighs tensing to keep her rhythm consistent. She leaned forward, biting and kissing down Eris' jaw to bring him with her. Not moments later, they groaned in unison, hearts racing as Nesta collapsed against his chest.

She wouldn't remain there for long. He never held her after. After catching her breath, Nesta slid off and grabbed her discarded robe from the floor. Eris rolled onto his side, not bothering to hide his body under the sheets as he propped his head up on one arm. 

"Will you join me for dinner?" The prince of Autumn kept his tone light, casual. "My father is expecting some political guests, diplomats or other useless bastards, and you would be the perfect date to infuriate him."

Nesta snorted. Eris loved nothing more than parading her in front of his vicious family who detested his failure to procure a proper wife with beneficial political connections. 

_Someone like Mor._ The nasty voice in her head drew a harsh comparison between them at any opportunity. 

"Guests from where?" Nesta asked, careful to keep her language disinterested.

Eris watched her stand, tying the robe tightly around her figure. "Not your precious Night Court. Somewhere irrelevant on the Continent."

With grim satisfaction, Nesta noted that the thought of her family stung less than last week. Which had stung less than the week before. Two months in the Autumn Court, hiding away in the prince's chambers, had strengthened her walls immensely to the point where she felt no emotion the majority of the time. She refused to acknowledge that small minority of moments, usually at night if she awoke gasping from a nightmare, when fear and anger and sadness slipped past her defenses like rain through a cracked window.

"Fine." Antagonizing Beron would serve as good practice for keeping her mental walls locked tight. The High Lord treated her like a prisoner, as if she hadn't marched into his Court of her on volition, looking for somewhere her demons wouldn't follow. Looking for somewhere her family wouldn't follow. 

(Looking for somewhere he wouldn't follow).

"Wonderful," Eris grinned. "We'll postpone our night session, then. Can't risk anyone discovering your...abilities." He sighed dramatically. "Although I do love seeing you get all riled up."

Nesta grimaced at his propensity to make everything sound filthy, even their regular training sessions. Eris had been surprisingly helpful in teaching her how to restrain and manage her magic. Centuries of harsh lessons and punishments from his father had given him more self-control than anyone Nesta had met in the Fae world. _Much more control than any of the darkness-spilling, power-abusing pricks in Velaris._

Most importantly, no one in the Night Court had flames running through their veins. The Autumn Court had seen more types of fire than they would ever admit to the outside world, carefully honing the art of weaponizing heat and chaos in any form against any enemy. Normally, the Vanserra family kept their knowledge under lock and key, but Eris delighted in spitting on tradition and giving their secrets away to Nesta.

Her feet carried her to the luxurious rooms, the door hidden behind a rich tapestry, where she stayed. Nesta knew exactly what the suite was intended for, but couldn't muster any shame at living like a royal whore when she fit the description a little too well. She lit the candles automatically as she swept past them, lighting the room in a soft, silver glow. Control.

Estimating she had at least two hours until she had to get dressed, Nesta drifted over to her balcony instead of her closet. The sun had only just begun its descent, the sky bleeding the slightest pink into the overwhelming blue. Dense forests filled with massive trees blocked her gaze from travelling very far, but Nesta liked to imagine she could see anything she wanted. Her fantastical images had to be better than the alternative.

Her heart raced and slowed in equal measure as one emotion slipped past her leaky defenses and the smell of pine filled her nose. Longing, then. The feeling of missing something she never had, the ache of a pain she never experienced. She'd tried to put this one emotion into words for Eris, one time, stumbling like a newborn fawn trying to learn how to walk.

_"You're heartbroken," Eris said with a smirk that had no humor. "It happens when you miss someone you no longer have."_

_"I don't have anyone," Nesta insisted. "I've never had anyone."_

_He had looked away from her then, uncharacteristically dropping her gaze. "Yearning, then. Or longing. Missing someone you never had in the first place. Mourning the loss you wish you could feel." His unspoken words had screamed me too, me too, me too._

She wouldn't probe him because she didn't care and he wouldn't probe her because he did care. Eris knew Nesta would leave him too, someday, but he wanted to delay that day as long as possible. Give her no reason to leave until fate did.

Mating bonds were a bitch that way.

Tonight, she would put on that delicious crimson gown and pretend the color didn't make her sick to her stomach. She would laugh in Beron's face while playing a role that was so incredibly wrong. She would sit next to a male whose scent was entwined with hers, a mixture that would disgust her family if they ever smelled it.

She would damn herself even more, distancing herself even further from the Cauldron's wishes and make sure that _he_ would never want to lay a hand on her again.

And she definitely wouldn't hope and wish, like a child captivated by fairy tales, that _he_ would chose her anyway at the end of this, that her mistakes weren't bigger than the ocean of emotions threatening to crush her like a tidal wave if she dared to open the gates of her mind.

Her time in the Autumn Court might go on forever, but it would most likely go down in flames.


End file.
